


Going Down

by wastrelwoods



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Choking, Elevator Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, except maybe how in love with dahlia rose duke rose seems to be, forgive me...this is not a product of canon things that happened, juno/peter but not really, just some people who look like them and are definitely not made up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 14:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13078704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wastrelwoods/pseuds/wastrelwoods
Summary: The Roses celebrate a job well done.





	Going Down

**Author's Note:**

> i COULD have been writing a post-midseason-finale reaction fic but instead i was doing this. please be proud of me

The doors slide shut with a low ding, and the floor lurches under their feet. Duke rocks on his heels, and turns to find Dahlia's eyes already searching for his. 

Bright as sea-glass. Hard as flint. Duke swallows, the tip of his tongue darting quickly over his thin lips. 

The Coveter's Jewel, with its wine-red glow, slips easily into the pocket of Dahlia's jacket. The whole universe wanted that ruby badly enough to stain it in blood a dozen times over, and now it's safe in their hands. They _win_.

Duke keeps his eyes fixed on Dahlia's. 

The rumble of his husband's thoughts barely registers as a flicker on his face, but Duke can't look away. Then the corner of Dahlia's mouth turns up in a smile, and he moves like a whipcrack, like a flash of lightning, reaching past Duke to jab at the panel by the door, crashing into his chest with the forward momentum, sending the pair of them staggering back into the wall where Dahlia pins Duke down at the same moment the elevator shudders and grinds to a halt. 

The light overhead flickers, and Duke's mouth shapes around the syllables of Dahlia's name before Dahlia drags him down and kisses him hard and hot, his teeth pricking like thorns as they scrape over Duke's lower lip. His hand slides into the space between Dahlia's jacket and his silk sundress, clutching at his waist, pulling him closer. 

The elevator's stopped halfway between two floors, keeping their journey at a pause. Giving Dahlia all the time he needs. If he cares one of the walls is translucent crystal he makes no sign of it. He turns Duke's head to one side to mark the skin of his neck with red bruising and smeared lipstain, and Duke can watch the waves shifting faintly thirty stories below, and he's breathless with gratitude, can't fathom what he possibly could have done to deserve a lady like Dahlia. He wants the whole galaxy to see this, how he's Dahlia's, always, completely and utterly, knows that Dahlia wants exactly the same. 

His legs are trembling underneath him from the strain of the arc that Dahlia's bent his spine in, their hips rolling and sliding against each other, and Dahlia's teeth are at his throat again, and Duke can't hold back a breathy gasp. 

Dahlia's laughter vibrates against his skin. "Turn around," he orders, and Duke complies almost faster than he can think, spinning on his heels so his husband can plant a hand on his neck and press his face into the wall as he grinds against Duke's ass. Duke moans against the reinforced steel, feels his hot breath fog the surface, scrambles to unfasten his belt while Dahlia's hand finds his other wrist and drags it above his head, pinning him there. 

It's perfect. It's perfect, or nearly so. Duke moans again, louder. "Yes yes yes please darling ohh--" Dahlia's other hand clamps down over his mouth, sudden and rough. 

"You wanna get caught?" he grunts, and Duke swallows again, hesitating only an instant before nodding quickly. Dahlia goes still, then sighs. "What the hell am I supposed to do with you?" 

He pulls his hand away, but Duke doesn't speak again, just slides his hips back to grind against Dahlia's crotch pointedly. He swallows a throaty groan, and leans up to press a kiss to the nape of Duke's neck. "Yeah, I'm getting to it," he says, reassuringly, digging through Duke's pockets and emerging with a bottle of lube he must have slipped in there earlier. "C'mon."

Duke swallows again, hard, and finishes shimmying his pants down his hips in time for Dahlia to spread the cleft of his ass and run his fingers over Duke's entrance.

He's still loose and raw from this morning's round, not anticipating that the span of hours between their customary good luck fuck and the post-job victory sex would be quite so brief. Dahlia can slide two fingers into him almost at once, spreading him wide, slicking him up, sliding and pressing and fucking him with firm motions that might seem mechanical or routine to an outside observer. But Duke can feel it. His fingers are soft and insistent and thick and hot, opening him up with all the precision of a safe being cracked. Duke muffles a whine into his collar, swallows down the desperate cry that threatens to bubble out from his chest when Dahlia slides another finger in and fucks him just a little faster. 

"Shhh," he grunts into Duke's ear, hot and low, and Duke bites down on his lips to stop up the breathy chorus of 'yes' and 'please' and 'more' that he hadn't been able to keep himself from vocalizing. Dahlia looks him over, still fucking him slow and hard enough to bring tears to his eyes, and lets go of his wrist to tug on his hair, bowing his head back at a punishing angle. "Good boy, Duke." 

He lets go, and Duke's face presses back into the wall, flushed and wet with tears, his breath coming so ragged and uneven that his lungs feel like they're burning, and he feels his whole body trembling like he's one breath away from falling to pieces. "Dahlia," he pleads. 

Dahlia nips at his shoulder and slips a hand under his shirt to skim short manicured nails over his chest, and pulls his fingers out of Duke with merciless swiftness, leaving him empty and shaking and desperate. "Dahlia," he repeats, with a soft whine. 

"Condom," he explains, warningly, and Duke shakes his head.

"No, no, no, love. Just you. Just want you" 

Dahlia curses and pulls Duke closer, his head turned to meet Dahlia's eyes and see them wide and dark and hungry. "You're gonna have one hell of an uncomfortable shuttle ride, Duke," he warns, and Duke clutches at Dahlia, grinds back against him and throws his head back.

"Don't care," he moans, and Dahlia beams at him, that dangerous, stunning smile of his.

He hitches one of Duke's legs up, slides his other arm around his waist and pulls him flush with his hips, cock sliding against his ass, teasing him. Duke tries to shift back into him with a needy groan and feels him pull away instead. Dahlia makes a warning sound in his ear, soft and threatening. "Be good for me, dear." 

There's a lingering promise in the space that follows his words, but all Duke can bring himself to care about is the hot throb of want in his gut. If Dahlia would only pin him down, take him apart, mark him inside and out and let Duke shout his name from the rooftops while he does it. "Please," he hums plaintively. "Please, _Dahlia-- _"__

__His hand comes down against Duke's ass with a sharp sting, and he gasps, spine arching._ _

__"Are you gonna stay quiet?" He's pulling Duke back again, grinding against him, so close, so close, nearly there, his free hand smacking at Duke's ass again and then settling on his neck. "Or am I gonna have to find a way to keep you quiet?"_ _

__Duke whimpers, and Dahlia finally--finally!--hitches his hips forward, buries himself between Duke's thighs in one slow, smooth motion. "Yes, yes, more, Dahli-- _aah_!"_ _

__His thrusts are quick and deep, filling Duke to bursting, making him tremble and shake and gasp for a breath he can't drag into his heaving chest. Dahlia's fingers are tight around his throat, straining his windpipe, just shy of crushing the life out of him, and Duke lets his head fall back against Dahlia's shoulder, one hand sliding against the wall and the other white-knuckling the railing. Dahlia hitches his leg up higher, drives in deeper, and the angle of his thrusts brushes over a spot that makes Duke see stars._ _

__Or perhaps the oxygen deprivation is behind that. Duke shudders and fights for the breath to moan, head spinning and thighs quaking. Dahlia's grip on him is firm, strong, so careful that even though his vision is blurring and his heart is pounding Duke has never felt safer. Dahlia's in control, Dahlia's taking care of him--_ _

__"Good boy," Dahlia groans again, low and hoarse, pressing his lips to the back of Duke's shoulder and loosing his grip just long enough to allow him a relieving breath. He sucks it in greedily, Dahlia's name already forming on his lips when his hold tightens again and Duke chokes on the sound. The elevator shudders and rattles faintly around them, struggling to restart._ _

__He can feel his pulse hammering under Dahlia's hand, his body burning hot, his spine curved painfully, an climax building fast in his gut, and he reaches up to grab at Dahlia's wrist in warning._ _

__Dahlia loosens his chokehold but doesn't slow the rhythm of his thrusts, and the feel of the blood rushing to his head has Duke too dizzy and distracted to rasp out a "Please, Dahlia, close--" until it's nearly too late._ _

__"Not yet," Dahlia orders, and Duke screws his eyes shut and bites down on a whine, trying to force his overstimulated body to obey while Dahlia pounds into him fast and hard and scrapes his nails over Duke's chest and groans in his ear. The way he tenses only makes Dahlia groan louder, his hips stuttering and going still, planting his face in Duke's neck as he comes inside him._ _

__The feeling of it makes Duke sigh happily, and he clutches at Dahlia's hips, at the sundress hiked up around his waist, at the ample curve of his ass. He sings praises and pleas unchecked, Dahlia's name sweet on his tongue, begging for he doesn't even know what, and it's only the pressure of an arm against his throat as Dahlia pulls out that stops his mouth._ _

__"I want you to come nice and quiet for me, honey," Dahlia tells him, his fingers brushing over Duke's dick for the first time, then gripping him more firmly. He feels all over again how tightly strung his body is, a single touch is enough to make him keen and thrust his hips forward into Dahlia's hand. " _Now_ , Duke, don't keep me waiting," he says, and Duke does as he's told, one hand clapped over his mouth to muffle his sounds. _ _

__His knees buckle as he spills into Dahlia's hand, but his husband keeps him upright, holding him steady, helping his fingers to find purchase on the handrail. Duke's stomach dips, and when he glances up the floor numbers have started to tick down again, a little too quickly for comfort. "Dahlia--" he rasps, the air tickling his raw throat, and Dahlia spares the mechanism a glance._ _

__Then he turns back to Duke, pleasantly sore from head to toe, slacks piled around his ankles, shirt half unbuttoned, every visible inch of his throat covered in marks and bruises. He holds out his hand, come dripping between his knuckles, and grins. "You'd better clean all this up fast, sweetheart."_ _

**Author's Note:**

> im on tumblr and twitter @wastrelwoods, and also please SOMEONE write a duke/dahlia fic that's less transparently thirsty than this one so i don't feel awkward about it


End file.
